Kissing Booth
by Tsukitani
Summary: AU Kagome's boss railroads her into sitting for the Kissing Booth at a Christmas charity event. The tables are turned when he realizes he can't stand the thought of her kissing anyone but him! SK oneshot.


Good heavens, I cannot tell you all how long ago I wrote this. It's been posted to my MediaMiner account for ages, and is hence out of season.

This is in answer to three One-Hour Challenges (#70, #126 & #187) from Destiny's Gateway Archives. The situation is: To raise money for an orphanage, one of the 'featured couple' is asked to sit in a Kissing Booth for the Christmas Festival. The sentences are: "You want me to _kiss_ you to prove I like girls?!" and "You call that a kiss? I could get better from a five-year-old!" "You want something more? Very well. Don't say later that I didn't warn you."

Special thanks to my beta, Jaredono! Without you, my stories would be full of missing characters, missing letters, and missing plot points!

This is AU, and blighted with one of the cheesiest, sappiest endings I have ever decided to torture readers with. So, yeah, keep the toothbrush handy for those pesky OOC-induced cavities...

* * *

**Kissing Booth**

Kagome sighed for perhaps the fifteenth time in the last hour, propping her chin in her hand and gazing out the window. The glass was coated with a thick rim of white frost, echoing the snowflakes dancing down in a gentle pattern. It all looked so romantic—seen from inside her boss' warm office, that is.

A rueful smile quirked at the corner of her lips, tugging one side up in what one of her past paramours had called 'adorable'. Kagome shuddered at the memory. She hated being 'adorable', or 'cute', or any one of a dozen similar appellations that ranked her right along with Shirley Temple in the sex appeal factor.

She had never been a knockout–not like her best friend Sango—and the romance of the snowy winter evening was not likely to be experienced by her in the way of her fantasies. Carriage rides through Central Park, tucked close to the side of a lover, feeling his presence radiating heat and sensual promise into her very bones...

The daydream was so realistic, Kagome could almost swear she could feel the heat rising next to her, hear the rasp of breath in her ear.

She sighed again, then started violently when her daydream whispered into her ear, "What are you doing, Higurashi?"

Kagome about jumped a foot at the smooth words poured into her ear like honey. She shivered despite her scare as hot breath fanned the sensitive shell, and she turned her head sharply to the side. The heel of her hand was pressed to her heart in a vain effort to control its frantic beating.

_And good thing, too_, she thought in dismay as her gaze collided with the intense golden irises of her boss, _or it would have jumped from my chest._

"Um...Mr. Wakagimi! I was just...um...looking out the window to see how the snow is affecting traffic," she prevaricated, stuttering over the falsehood, "to estimate the delay for your ride home."

Kagome smiled weakly and tried to keep her gaze steady to lend credence to her words, hoping her demanding boss would buy it and be impressed with her thoughtfulness.

_Yeah, right_, she scoffed inwardly, _like His-High-And-Mightiness__would ever be impressed by anything other than a good day at the Exchange_.

After a few moments of silence, Kagome began to shift under the penetrating gaze he leveled at her. Finally, she couldn't stand the strain and her customary honesty and sense of guilt overwhelmed her.

Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her gaze. Unfortunately, her eyes landed on the broad expanse of pristine white shirtfront mere inches from her nose.

_Ummm..._she thought blankly.

It was really too bad her boss was such a cold fish. If he were just a bit warmer, she could really find herself in deep, deep trouble with him. Deeper than she already was, that is.

_Yeah, well, lucky for me he's made of marble._

Unfortunately, that particular image did not have the desired effect of cooling her rapidly rising temperature. "Marble" made her think of statuary, and statuary made her think of "David"—Michelangelo's "David", to be exact—in all of his naked glory.

She groaned in defeat, feeling the blush rise to cover her cheeks in embarrassment.

"Are you quite well, Higurashi?" he asked in those precise tones of his.

Unfortunately, the deep timbre of his voice negated all detrimental effects those prickly words invoked. Kagome simultaneously wanted to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet, and drop through the floor in agony.

_How long is it going to take for me to get over this silly little crush?_ She thought a bit wildly as she struggled to get a handle on her hormones. _It's not like he's ever given me the slightest bit of encouragement._

She smiled ruefully to herself. _In fact, all he ever does is order me around_.

She conveniently ignored the fact that the man in question was her employer—that's what he was supposed to do.

_Or goad me into an argument. Besides,_ came the glum thought,_ it's not like he's given any woman the slightest encouragement._ _I bet he's gay._

Kagome cast her gaze as surreptitiously as possible over the impeccable form of the man standing—almost leaning—too close for her own comfort.

Tall and lean, broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs---the sight always made her feel the need to wipe her chin. He always moved with a sense of grace akin to the deadly prowl of a predator. The feral image was reinforced by his unusual coloring. Pale, almost white hair, and beautiful, strangely mesmerizing eyes the color of antique gold.

Despite his conservative dress and manner, though, he wore his hair long, confined only by a band at the nape of his neck. Every day for the past year of her employment with Mr. Sesshoumaru Wakagimi, she had fought the itch to run her fingers through that mass and discover for herself if it was a soft as it appeared.

Kagome shook herself again, pulling back from the dangerous brink of her wayward thoughts.

_Yep,_ she told herself, _no doubt about it. No way a man that damned beautiful is straight._

"Higurashi?" Her boss' voice broke through her thoughts, and she realized with a start that he had been speaking to her for some time. Her face flamed; even her ears felt hot.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, mortified at the direction her thoughts had taken, "I must have wandered there. Could you repeat that, please?"

Beleaguered, Sesshoumaru sighed and began again.

"I said, Marjorie reminded me of that charity festival coming up tomorrow."

"The orphanage fundraiser?" Kagome verified, effectively redirected.

Nodding again, he continued, "Yes. It seems there has been a small..." he searched for the appropriate word, "_snag_."

Kagome perked up, a frown drawing her delicate brows together.

'_A snag'?_ She thought with a small shot of alarm.

She was responsible for most of the planning for the company Christmas Festival that, each year, chose a different charity to donate proceeds to. This year was one close to Kagome's heart: St. Michael's Home.

Ever since her high school days, she had been a volunteer there, working with the children on the weekends, helping organize and fund small outings for the bright-eyed darlings. She had even worked there one summer during college, processing all the various paperwork required for state and federal funding, answering telephones, general secretary work...she even fixed the toilets once.

Kagome knew that her work with the orphanage had not only prepared her well for her role as personal assist to one of the most successful men in the Financial District, but had given her a deep appreciation for all she had been blessed with in her life.

"What's the matter?" she blurted, panic beginning to edge into her voice.

_Everything is supposed to be perfect...it has to be perfect for the children!_ She thought frantically.

"Is it the DJ? The caterer?" she gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth, "Oh, no! The media cancelled our coverage!" she wailed in despair.

If they lost that crucial exposure, then her ambitious plans for additional fund raising via a telethon would evaporate...and so would her hopes of renovating the leaky, drafty east wing of the old orphanage building.

"Kagome," Sesshoumaru said, gently taking her wrists in his hands and tugging them from her mouth. "There is no need to panic." A small twitch developed at the corner of her boss' mouth, but in her overwrought state, Kagome missed the uncharacteristic expression.

She turned huge, dark eyes to his; the hope that all of her planning wasn't falling down around her ears kindled there.

"Really? No disasters?"

Her lips were parted and Sesshoumaru had to bite back a groan at the sight of the tempting pink morsels, so close to him...

He cleared his throat and said in as brisk a manner as possible, "No, of course not. Marjorie said to let you know that the girl for the Kissing Booth had to cancel." Now his lips really _did_ twitch–noticeably, "It seems she has developed a case of mononucleosis."

Kagome gasped again, but wicked amusement danced in her eyes.

"Oh! That's...that's..." she fumbled for an appropriately sympathetic word, but finally gave in to her mirth and said, "so _ironic_!"

She burst out into peals of laughter and it was all Sesshoumaru could do not to tug her into his embrace and feel the vibrations of that carefree sound washing over his tense, tired body. She never failed to relax him, whether they were arguing, or simply going about the daily office routine, and he dreaded the end of the day when they would go their separate ways.

"Indeed," he said wryly as her laughter died down. "But now you must find someone to replace the chit. It's too bad, you know," he said ruefully on a gusty sigh, "she obviously was the most qualified."

Kagome looked up at him, shocked.

"Did you just...?" she began, then cut herself off abruptly.

_No,_ she berated herself, _there is no way Sesshoumaru Wakagimi just made a joke!_

Thankfully for her already maxed-out daily embarrassment quota, the reality of the Kissing Booth predicament hit home.

"What am I going to do?!" she wailed, "I don't know anyone else who is willing to man the booth!" Kagome wracked her brains, but no names came immediately to mind.

Thankfully the young man set to run the other half of the booth hadn't backed out—unless he was the one that gave Tessa mono, that is. Kagome grimaced at that horrific scenario. Every young woman she knew already had an assignment...or had already flatly refused the job.

Groaning in defeat, she said, "I guess I'll either have to leave that as a female-only attraction, or close it down completely."

"You do not know anyone else?" Sesshoumaru asked in disbelief.

He had been amazed at the sheer number of people Kagome had roped into this project, and consequently found it hard to believe she couldn't pull _one_ name out of her vast hat of acquaintances and friends.

She shook her head in denial, "Nope. None. Nada. Zippo. Zilch."

"Yes, I get the idea," he said dryly.

Then an idea struck him. An absolutely wicked, delicious, sneaky, _delightful_ idea.

Holding back his smirk through great effort of will, Sesshoumaru said in the most innocent, offhand manner he could dredge up, "Why don't you take her place?"

Kagome's head snapped up so fast he was surprised it didn't fly right off her slender shoulders.

"What?!" she gasped, certain she had misheard.

There was no way her stuffy, snobby, uptight and priggish boss had just suggested she kiss other men..._for money_. Even if it was money for charity. The man she never heard give more than the rarest words of praise, the man who never touched anyone in a familiar manner (she ignored the fact that he was still clasping her hands warmly in his own), never responded to greetings with more than stiff formality and a supercilious eyebrow?

_But he's not like that with you_, prodded a small voice.

_That's only because we spend so much time together_, she shot back primly, then sunk into a glower. _Besides, I'm his personal slave, remember?_

_But he doesn't treat you like a slave, does he?_ Came the smug reply. _He treats you with respect...usually._

Kagome felt a warm glow suffuse her at that particular epiphany.

_Yes, I suppose so..._she thought tentatively, _he does treat me almost as an equal._

Why Kagome should feel happiness that her repressed, anal-retentive, superior employer treated her more as an equal than an underling was beyond her, but there it was.

"It's settled, then. I'll have Tara call Marjorie with the new arrangements." Sesshoumaru turned to give the instructions to his secretary.

"Wha—? Wai—! You—!" she sputtered, clutching frantically at his hands in an effort to prevent him from consigning her to Hell for an evening.

"I don't believe this!" she exploded, jerking hard on his hands to stop him. "No, I don't believe _you_! I can't possibly man the Kissing Booth! No way!"

Sesshoumaru merely quirked a slender brow up at her display of temper, inwardly enjoying the bright sparkle of her eyes and the lovely flush on her cheeks.

"And why not?" he asked cooly.

"Why not? Why not?" she stalled, trying to come up with a list of reasons why she would not be able to do this one more thing for the cause closest to her heart. Anything but the truth: that she didn't _want_ to kiss anyone other than the man before her. Time to prevaricate.

"I'll tell you why! I have to be available to manage all of the activities for the night. The DJ, the MC, the media, the press, the talent show, the children...!"

"There will be plenty of people there who are capable of handling those tasks."

He was challenging her, dammit! She saw it in the flash of his topaz eyes—it was the same excitement that she saw whenever he was embroiled in a particularly difficult negotiation.

Kagome groaned inwardly. She didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of winning this argument, but she had to give it one more try, even if it was a complete and total fabrication. If it worked, she would come up with an out for it later.

"Okay, but I can't very well ditch my date to go kiss a string of other men, now can I?" she demanded triumphantly, certain Sesshoumaru's sense of social responsibility would win out over his insane idea to install her as the Kissing Queen of the Christmas Festival.

Instead of the sigh of resignation she expected, though, an almost feral light erupted in his eyes, making them glow for a brief moment like amber coals. Kagome gasped as he bent that fierce look on her, focusing with painful intensity on her suddenly-pale face.

It could have been her imagination, but she swore something akin to a low growl vibrated the tense air around them as his sharp gaze locked on her lips. Before Kagome could fathom what any of it meant, he had shaken himself and bestowed on her a tight smile, leaving her to ponder if it had happened in fact and not in some hazy daydream.

"It is settled, then. You will cancel this..._date_," he practically spat the word out, "and there will be no competition. Right?"

Something about the way his golden gaze bored into her own made a shiver chase down her spine and her stomach clench. It was almost as if he were willing her to understand some double meaning to his curt, challenge-frosted words, but for the life of her she couldn't make her mind function beyond noticing how very closely he was leaning towards her. All she had to do was tilt her head to the side a bit and...blink in confusion.

And blink a few more times, for Sesshoumaru was gone, the only evidence of his having been there the soft _snick_ of the latch as the office door closed behind him.

_Tomorrow is going to be a long day_, she thought to herself, _and Sesshoumaru Wakagimi is going to make it even longer._

Kagome sighed for the twentieth time that day.

* * *

After a restless night's sleep wherein she had strange, fragmented dreams of being forced to kiss a succession of men with piecing golden eyes and soft, sensual lips, Kagome most certainly did _not_ feel like she was in control of anything. She was tired, she was cranky, and she had spent the better part of an hour looking for the mate of the only glove she _could_ find—to no avail. 

So now she was _gloveless_, cranky and tired. And she had to kiss a bunch of strange men, when the only man she wanted to kiss was the _last_ man who would want to kiss her.

She groaned at the self-pitying tack her thoughts had taken and tucked her hands under her arms in a futile attempt to transfer some warmth into the frozen digits. Just for good measure, she stomped her boot-clad feet and bounced on her toes to increase the circulation.

She heard a soft sound behind her an instant before an amused voice drawled, "You know, as much as I am enjoying the tantalizing dance, gloves would really help."

Kagome whirled around to face the openly smirking form of Sesshoumaru, dressed warmly in a dark wool overcoat, scarf...and gloves.

She scowled at his no-doubt toasty hands and muttered a string of imprecations invoking new and creative uses for her boss' cashmere-lined leather gloves. Sesshoumaru simply raised his brows, impressed at her talent for insult, wondering briefly how one would even go about some of the things she said.

"Where are your gloves, Kagome?" he asked, ignoring the fulminating glare she leveled at him.

"If you must know," she replied haughtily, "I lost them."

She expected him to make some comment about her irresponsibility, but instead his brows lowered over his eyes and his lips turned down in a scowl set to match her own.

"You mean you are out here in this frigid weather without anything to put over your hands?" he demanded harshly.

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" she snapped back, in no mood to spar with him today. He was the cause of all her stress, anyway.

_It's not enough that he railroads me into this stupid Kissing Booth thing, and plagues my dreams, oh no!_ She thought scathingly, _No, he has to poke at my failings as well!_

With an exasperated sigh, Sesshoumaru began tugging at the fingers of his gloves. With a elegant flick of his wrist, he held the dark leather out to her, silently ordering her to take them.

When she did nothing more than continue to glare at him, he shook them under her nose and said, "Well? Take them!"

Not waiting to see if she would accept the garments on her own, he grasped one of her hands in his, sucking in a sharp breath at their icy temperature before forcing her fingers into the soft interior.

The gloves were five sizes too big for her, flopping past the tips of her fingers in a comical manner, but they retained the warmth from Sesshoumaru's skin and Kagome soaked it up gratefully. There was something disturbingly intimate about wearing a garment of his, especially so soon after he had that she could still feel the heat of his body in the fabric. She blushed and raised her eyes to his in gratitude.

Unbeknownst to Kagome, Sesshoumaru's thought were running along the same lines as hers, but with a decidedly more possessive bent. He decided that she looked absolutely bewitching with his oversized gloves wrapped around her slender fingers in much the same manner he wished to be wrapped around her.

_Like she belongs to me_, he thought, enjoying the possessive feeling coursing through his veins. It didn't feel wrong, and it didn't feel unethical or awkward. It was completely natural because, he realized, he _did_ think of Kagome as his—and not just as his employee. She was the color in his grey world, and the warmth in his cool demeanor.

A genuine smile began to bloom on Sesshoumaru's face and he took a long step forward, intent on leaning down to claim a kiss, but a young voice piped up from somewhere around the area of his knees, halting his progress.

He could feel a growl work its way up his throat at the untimely interruption, but one look down at his side and he desisted. A little girl, no more than six or so, had her pert little face tilted up to stare at him in fascination.

"Hi!" she greeted, as if they were old friends, "You must be Mister Wagamama."

"Wakagimi,"Sesshoumaru corrected with exasperation, ignoring Kagome's quick attempt to stifle her giggle.

"How do you know my name?" he asked in return. She really was a cute little thing, in an annoying, enchanting, exasperating way.

"You have long white hair and yellow eyes," she replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

When it became obvious the tall man still didn't get the connection between his coloring and how she knew his name, she sighed heavily in a weary-with-the-world way and expounded, "Kagome talks about you all the time." After pausing for a beat, she added as an afterthought, " I'm Rin."

Sesshoumaru's opinion of little Rin went up several notches. Why had he thought her an annoyance? She was clearly an extremely bright child._  
_

He quirked a teasing eyebrow at the fiercely blushing Kagome, who was desperately trying to distract Rin from her embarrassingly revealing conversation.

"'All the time'?" the infuriatingly smug man parrotted back to Rin, who nodded her head so vigorously her ponytail bobbed violently.

"Uh-huh! _All_ the time!" she reiterated, then to Kagome's intense mortification, went on to offer her own personal theory to her avid audience. "Because she's in love with you!"

Both adults froze at the innocent words, locking startled gazes on each other. Kagome's mouth hung open slightly, a choked sound emerging from between lips suddenly pale with more than the cold. Her cheeks were equally pallid, the blush of moments ago drained away in shock. Sesshoumaru saw the naked truth in her dark eyes, and felt a sense of triumph sweep through him.

_It's true, then!_ He crowed to himself. He didn't have to hold himself apart from her any more.

But before he could act on his wildly cascading emotions, Kagome had wrenched herself out of her paralysis and crouched before Rin.

In a voice shaking with more than the cold, Kagome asked, "Rin, what did you come over here for?"

"Oh! Miss Margie said it's time to open the Kissy Booth." she piped, latching on to Kagome's hand—still in Sesshoumaru's glove—and dragging her enthusiastically away.

"Bye, Mister Wagamama!" she chirped before they were swallowed by the growing crowd.

Sesshoumaru just stood rooted for a bemused moment before white-hot fury ripped through his consciousness.

"The _hell_ she will!" he exploded before striding after the object of his desires.

_No way in hell is any other man going to take what is mine!_ He snarled to himself.

He caught up to Kagome, thankfully without impressionable young children about, at the disgustingly pink Kissing Booth. Stalking right up behind her, he grasped her by the shoulder and spun her to face him. Kagome gave a startled squeak at the abrupt change in direction, but when she saw who was facing her down like a maddened bull locked onto a matador's cape, two flags of color flared high in her cheeks.

"Sess–Sesshoumaru!" she stuttered, clearly at a loss. Why couldn't she have avoided him long enough to think a clever way out of Rin's innocently-woven tangle? And why was he so mad?

_Oh no,_ she thought with a sinking feeling, _he knows what Rin said is true, he's disgusted at my lack of professionalism, and he's gonna fire me for it!_

It made perfect sense to her. After all, they could hardly carry on a business relationship now—it had been nearly impossible for her to do so for the past four months as it was!

_Truly, it will be a relief not to have to pretend I don't feel anything for him other than respect as my boss_, she thought, but the words were hollow and she knew it.

"Just what do you think you are doing, woman?" Sesshoumaru ground out.

Kagome instantly began to wring her hands and said apologetically.

"I'm really sorry! I tried not to, but I just couldn't seem to help myself!"

Sesshoumaru sighed and pinched the bride of his nose.

"No, no. I am to blame for forcing you into this when you made it clear you did not want to," he said, not noticing the confused look that came into Kagome's eyes at his words.

_What does he mean he forced me to fall in love with him?_ She thought in bewilderment.

That translated into her tone when she asked, "What do you mean 'forced me'? You didn't 'force me' to do anything I wasn't willing to do, so don't blame yourself, please!" Sesshoumaru's head snapped up, his brows drawing together in a scowl as he interpreted her words.

"You _want_ to kiss other men?" he growled, advancing on the confused woman.

"What? What does kissing other men have to do with—wait just a minute," she broke off and held up her hand as the heat of anger began to free her brain cells, allowing her to ignore her earlier chagrin and focus on her rising indignation. "What do my kissing habits have to do with anything? It's not as of you're likely to kiss me anyway, seeing as how you probably don't even like girls!"

Kagome's temper got the better of her tongue, and she stood toe-to-toe with the towering, equally-infuriated figure of Sesshoumaru.

Glaring daggers at him, she didn't so much as flinch when he snarled back, "Oh, I see! You want me to _kiss_ you to prove I like girls?!"

And before Kagome could fire another shot back, his lips had descended on hers in a hard kiss meant to dominate and lay claim. After a few moments, both stepped back several paces, gasping slightly and taking in deep lungfuls of the icy December air, though it did nothing to cool the combatants. As soon as Kagome caught a glimpse of the smug, self-satisfied look on Sesshoumaru's handsome face, she let out a tiny growl of her own.

Sticking her nose in the air she scoffed disdainfully, "You call that a kiss? I could get better from a five-year-old!"

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed to amber slits and a hard smile twisted his lips.

"You want something more?" he said in a low, dangerous voice that sent delicious shivers tripping down Kagome's spine.

To her dismay, he stalked steadily closer and she found herself powerless to move away from the predatory glitter in his eyes. Her nerves were tingling in anticipation.

"Very well. Don't say later that I didn't warn you."

With those softly seductive words, Sesshoumaru reached his destination.Giving a small sigh of surrender, Kagome reached up to twine her arms around his neck. Cheers erupted around the booth from the crowd that had gathered to witness the fiery battle.

Years later, Kagome and Sesshoumaru would bring out a leather-bound photo on each anniversary and chuckle over the scene it revealed: A tall, white-haired man was wrapped around a petite woman as if he was protecting her from the cold snowflakes drifting down around them.

Another interpretation was that he was trying to suck her lungs out through her throat.

The point is, every year the couple would look back on that night of the Christmas Festival when the Kissing Booth became a roaring success. Festival-goers donated an unprecedented amount to the St. Michael's charity just to see a gorgeous young man and a beautiful young woman kiss...each other.

"I'm glad we put those ratty old gloves of yours to good use. I was ready to throw them away."

"Hush! I like them this way, warming this one moment in time the same way you warm my heart."

"Awww...how sweet!"

"Ummm...come here and I'll show you sweet..."

"Sess! Stop that ! Stop! Oh! Oh, okay, if you put it _that_ way..."

* * *

Okay, just one final note here on Sesshoumaru's name. "Wakagimi" is a Japanese social title word, meaning "young lord" or, more loosely, "prince". And the way Rin mispronounces his name as "Wagamama"? A pun. "Wagamama" means "selfishness" or "egoism". I thought it was appropriate. 

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha and all sexy characters therein belong to Takahashi Rumiko, et al.


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